


Tumbling Closer

by sweetiejelly



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-01
Updated: 2012-10-01
Packaged: 2017-11-15 09:43:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetiejelly/pseuds/sweetiejelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set at the end of the trilogy, in Peeta's POV. Some days it's easy. </p><p>Previously meant to be written for <a href="http://cottoncandy-bingo.dreamwidth.org">cottoncandy_bingo</a> for the prompt "making out" but sort of went past that. Oops? So designating this as my wild card fill instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tumbling Closer

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted to [LJ](http://sweetiejelly.livejournal.com/178284.html).

Some days it’s easy. Sky tinted with clouds, wind blowing hard enough to set the treetops swaying. Katniss asleep, tucked tight against me. Her hair fanning out, wild and loose. I can see small cracks along her thumb and forefinger where she sliced herself working on the book of memories. And I know instantly that this is real. Our life is real. Our children exist.

I touch her shoulder and press thanks into her hair. She blinks awake, ready to fight. I know that light. So I kiss her before she could rub two bad thoughts together. I kiss her leisurely, like we have all the time in the world. And we do almost. At least until the kids wake.

Katniss looks at me, her eyes wide for a moment before fluttering shut. But that moment of recognition (of the now, of me, of us) is enough. She kisses back, pins me to the bed with her thighs. I love her most like this – strong, skillful, free. Her body hums a song, beautiful. And I’m that boy again – that boy helplessly in love with her.

Katniss likes to kiss. And she’s damn good at it. The things she does to me make me blush. (And tug her closer.) I always want her closer. She pulls on my hair too hard but it’s good. It’s a sign that she’s starting to lose control. I trace the pads of my fingers over her pebbled skin and feel the ripples break. Her breath hitches and she sucks a sharp note onto my tongue.

I smile into her and move to place kisses along her curve of neck. I kiss her cords of muscles there, strong and elegant and long. Just like the rest of Katniss. She writhes and tries to rush us, fingers sneaking down impatient between us.

“No,” I lay her back against the mattress, “let me.” Slowly, I slip her night dress off her shoulders and kiss along the exposed skin. Katniss is soft here, under her armor. We move in tandem, each tweak, suckle, and caress brings out a reaction in her. She notices every little thing that I do. Still.

It’s enough. It fills the room with love you’s unspoken. She does, I know. This is her language of it. She cups my head and lets her body open for me. She pulls and arches and rolls against me, but she lets me. She lets me go slow, take my time telling her how beautiful she is. Showing her.

“Peeta.” Her breath’s ragged, like she’s run through ten hellholes of a jungle. Her eyes are a little wild. But we’ve both come to learn that this is a good sort of fire. The kind that razes us clean and new and full of life. “Peeta,” she says again.

I move up her body to kiss her. “Katniss,” I invoke her name too. She grins up at me, my girl on fire. She burns brighter than the sun in her hair, in her eyes. Quickly she tumbles us around again so I’m pinned and exactly where I want to be.

She holds my gaze the whole time.

When she comes, her hair comes tumbling over my face. She stays, trembling, trembling. And I hold her, hands stroking lazy patterns over her back: _real, real, real_.


End file.
